My stomach twists in on itself, knots forming within.
Well, whatever. He wrote it.
No takebacks.
49
SUTTON
No partof me wants to be here right now, but I need answers.
There’s a statute of limitations on how long someone can go without understanding their past before it starts to eat away at their soul. My limit is three days, apparently. Three days of awareness at least, since the repressive instincts kept everything locked pretty tight up to that point.
My hands ache around nothing, desperate to fill their emptiness. In spite of everything, not a moment has passed in which Elle’s soft skin and smug smirk haven’t provided me a sense of comfort. Normalcy. Purpose.
Love.
That’s why I’m here.
Because I’m weak.
Irritated, I toss my phone onto the floor of my car and scrub my hands over my face. Shit. I shouldn’t have sent her away in the first place.
What was there to think about, really? To process?
I’ve been dealing with my sister’s death for eight years. I’m not sure who played a hand in it really even matters anymore.
God. What am I even saying?
Of course it fucking matters. My girlfriend murdering my twin matters.
But it’s clear I don’t have the full picture, and there’s only one person I can think of who might be able to fill in the gaps. Perhaps if I’d asked earlier, all this could’ve been avoided.
Or maybe what I’m really destined for is heartbreak.
My phone buzzes to life as I climb out of the car. The parking lot is practically empty, the cloudy gray sky casting a film of unease in the air around me.
Beckett’s name lights up the screen as I take a look, but I ignore it for the time being. All he’ll do is put me further on edge, and I want to focus right now.
Stuffing the phone into one pocket, I take a deep breath and walk to the entrance, pulling the door open slowly before slipping inside.
50
ELLE
At Lethe’s,I get out of the cab I took and make my way inside. The neon sign out front is turned off, presumably since it’s still the middle of the day, and the parking lot is only sparsely populated, so I can see why Sutton chose this place to meet.
Fewer prying eyes here, which is more important now, since he’s being investigated by the school.
Inside, the lights are dim, and I don’t see anyone behind the bar, but I take a seat at it anyway. I feel like a fucking teenager getting to see her celebrity crush for the first time at some meet and greet, which is ridiculous, but apparently I’m quite enamored with the stuffy professor.
Three days is a long time when you aren’t sure where you stand with someone.
No one comes out to take my order, but I hear them in the kitchen messing around, so I don’t mind. I didn’t come here for a drink anyway. Alcohol in the middle of the day feels a little too much like a crisis, so I’d rather just sit and wait.
Ten minutes pass. I glance at my phone, frowning. Did I miss him already? I assumed that the note had been taped onlybriefly before I discovered it, but what if he wanted to see me this morning? Or last night even?
An hour isn’t a very good distinguisher, which I plan to make known whenever he finally shows up.
